Family Story

Every family has their story. For our family it's either the laugh-so-hard-you-cry stories or the stomach twisting, mysterious kind. Unfortunately for you, this isn’t laugh-so-hard-you-cry sort. I myself don’t remember these unusual events because I was only about two years old, but at the moment I was very aware of what was going on. They say that children can sense things that aren’t visible… and that is definitely true, in my case.

When I was younger, my mom, dad, and I lived in house in Kaneohe. It was a cozy little house right on the water, which overlooked Coconut Island. It was like living on a houseboat and you could always hear the waves splashing against the back wall.

One afternoon, just after my mom had put me down for a nap and was cleaning the kitchen, she thought she heard something at the door. She went to see who was there, but opened the door to nothing but the wind. “Maybe it was just someone playing a practical joke,” my mom thought. By now the glass door at the back of the house was starting to shake. It sounded like someone wiggling the door back and forth and trying to open it. Since we lived across the bay from Kaneohe Marine Base, she assumed it was just a jet flying overhead. But no jet had ever shaken the house like that before.

That night we ate dinner, played and went to bed, but my mom couldn't fall asleep. She got up to go get water when she heard me yell, “Mom! Mom!”. “What’s the matter Maile?” she said as I sat wide-awake. “There’s something all around the room” I replied. She told me that I just had a bad dream, but knew that wasn't the truth. My mom rocked me back to sleep in the living room and in doing so saw a light from outside. It looked like a flashlight or maybe the moon. But there was no moon that night and not a trace of anyone standing outside. She couldn’t figure it out. My dad came out to see what we were doing and my mom told him what had happened and what I said. He laughed it off and said to go back to bed.

Two days went by without any commotion. In the morning the door handles started to rattle again. Next came the glass door and then the windows. “Maybe it’s an earthquake,” my mom thought, except the doors weren’t shaking, the handles were rapidly turning back and forth. She checked outside to see if it was possibly a jet or a boat, but there was nothing in sight, it was a rather calm day. She told my dad that it happened again, but he wasn't convinced.

A week later my dad was watching football on the couch when it started up again. He was shocked. Before this, he thought my mom was just imagining things, but he was actually there this time. They knew there was a spirit in the house. They talked to the neighbors about the house and the people who lived there before us. Then the mystery unfolded. The people who lived in the house had a son, but he had drowned in the ocean outside of the house many years ago. My parents were sure that was the cause of all this. But they were never scared or felt like his spirit was haunting them. They knew the boy was there and that it was his home too. It continued to happen while we lived there. And became more special than spooky. We finally understood.

I Believe...

I believe in smiles. I believe in happiness. I believe in helping others. I believe in laughter. I believe in having fun. I believe in rules. I believe in responsibility. I believe in peace. I believe in love. I believe in family. I believe in friendship. I believe in creativity. I believe in truth. I believe in karma. I believe that anyone can be anything. I believe in living life to the fullest. I believe in strength. I believe in hope. I believe in God. I believe in originality. I believe in freedom. I believe in myself.

Purpose

The purpose of this blog is to show that world who I am. Through technology and the Internet, I can express myself with not only words, but movies, music, and feelings that can't just be scribbled on paper. It will help me to discover my true self and my connection with all those who view this. Piecing together the puzzle of my identity. Why I am unique and the what makes me, me.